The White Horse

Short Story by: IMAGOrion

Summary

A man grieving the loss of a loved one and saying his final goodbyes.

*Note* This is not based on real events. I put it in 'Flash Fiction' as I had no idea what to place it under. Any recommendations of a select genre for this piece would be appreciated.

Content

Submitted: June 24, 2012

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Content

Submitted: June 24, 2012

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“I remember waking up the day after it happened, white stained my face. I could see, I could taste, I could hear. But I could no longer feel. I stood near the bed where I’d held you in my arms, with smiles on our faces and joy in our hearts. I remember when you laughed until you cried before drifting to sleep as I watched, smiling and fascinated by your beautiful nature. But that’s all it is… a memory. As from now on all you will be is a faded memory of what once was; the perfect life.” I sighed “You never knew how beautiful you were, I never told you enough. I’m so sorry if I never made you feel as beautiful as you really are. I loved you so much.” I wiped my eyes of sorrow “Why you?” I touched the stone where your name was engraved. I closed my eyes, sculpting the letters with my fingertips. Though my sight wasn’t blank, because every time I closed my eyes, I saw it again; I saw you lying there, so still… so cold. I flicked open my eyes, trying not to think of the nightmare once more.

“I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I hope, wherever you are, you are able to smile your oh so beautiful smile. You were the world to me, my everything; I love you and always will. You’re irreplaceable; no one will ever fill the never-ending hole in my heart saved for you. I wish I could have seen you live the life you were meant to… with me; in my arms every night until you fell asleep… until you opened your eyes in the morning.” I knelt down in front of her grave, placing my hand upon the top of the stone, and in despair, I began to pray “Dear whoever is up there, if there is anyone up there, look after her, make her feel like the most beautiful thing that ever existed. Give her what she deserves and let her know that I’m thinking of her… every minute of every living day.”

I sighed, opening my eyes to see the date of your conclusion on the white stone, comparing how long you lived to the surrounding grave stones; thinking about how you didn’t live long enough to know how loved you were… by everyone, by me. I stood up, brushing off my knees and standing tall. “Though you couldn’t say it, though it seems impossible, I know you would have wanted me to move on from this. You will never be forgotten. I shall tell others of you, your personality that shone through in the little moments you were with me. I will remind everyone I ever meet that, actually, I am a father. I am a father to the most precious little girl that loved her daddy very much, as much as he loved her.”

I closed my eyes.

Yawning, I moved to the edge of my bed, checking the clock for the time, 04:20. Curious, I wondered why you hadn’t woken me up yet. You were teething, remember? Oh, how you would scream at unbearable times in the early morning. I stood up, stretching and reached for my dressing gown. Still yawning, I walked out of my door and flicked on the light of your chalk-yellow nursery, walking towards your cot whilst wiping the sleep from my eyes. I stood, looking at you, thinking how peacefully you slept in your cot; so deeply asleep… so very deeply, so very…

Panicked, I stroked the top of your head, trying to get any reaction. I touched your small hand, how cold it was. I started shivering, eyes wide, though unable to cry. Stunned, I turned away, beginning to walk out of the door; closing it behind me. Shaking hysterically, pale as paper and no light able to reflect on my lifeless eyes, I managed to walk downstairs and to the phone hung up in the hallway.

Emergency Services.”

I stood, looking down at the flowers, in a beautiful array of colours, all for you. Slightly smiling, I pulled your favourite toy from my pocket and placed it amongst the flowers; the white horse you couldn’t sleep without.

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© Copyright 2016 IMAGOrion. All rights reserved.

The White Horse

Status: Finished

Genre: Flash Fiction

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Flash Fiction

Houses:

Summary

A man grieving the loss of a loved one and saying his final goodbyes.

*Note* This is not based on real events. I put it in 'Flash Fiction' as I had no idea what to place it under. Any recommendations of a select genre for this piece would be appreciated.

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